


The Ick Factor

by iwilltry_tocarryon



Category: Revolution (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-09
Updated: 2015-03-09
Packaged: 2018-03-17 01:03:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3509339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwilltry_tocarryon/pseuds/iwilltry_tocarryon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU- Charloe, based on an episode of F.R.I.E.N.D.S. Charlie crashes at Miles' house during the day to nap when an unexpected visitor catches her embarrassingly sleep talking. And not just sleep talking.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Ick Factor

**Author's Note:**

  * For [romeokijai](https://archiveofourown.org/users/romeokijai/gifts).



> Thanks for the prompt romeokijai! I tried to make it funny and fluffy, but it kind of took a little smuttier course. Regardless it was fun to write, so thanks again dear :)

“Are you going home first?” Miles’ voice echoed through the phone nestled on Bass’ shoulder as he drove.

“Nah, I’ll just hang out at your place until the game tonight.”

“Okay, I’m closing the bar up early so I’ll be there around 6:30 or 7.”

“Don’t forget to pick up pizza. And the hot wings. It couldn’t hurt to get chips too. Oh fuck, and beer.”

“Yes dear. Anything else?” Miles quipped, rolling his eyes though Bass couldn’t see him.

“Well if you didn’t forget things I wouldn’t have to remind you.” Bass’ sing-song voice beamed through the phone almost blinding Miles as he muttered under his breath before loudly, and abruptly, ending the phone call.

Bass chuckled on the other end as he turned his car turned the corner of a familiar street. Miles just didn’t want to have to admit Bass was right and risk him bringing up the incident yet again.

He never bothered bringing the spare key with him; Miles hardly ever locked the door, claiming he didn’t need some flimsy piece of metal to protect him or his prized possessions. Bass knew the real reason he didn’t lock the house up was because he always forgot. That man could do a lot of talented shit, but remembering the simplest things was not his strong suit. 

Turning his car off, his eyes zeroed in on a recognizable shiny Honda Civic lodged in the driveway. The hanging branches of a Maple tree sheltered it, shadows covering it, but he still knew exactly whose car it was.

Miles hadn't mentioned Charlie was there, not that he minded. At least he would have someone to entertain him while he waited on Miles' ass. And Charlie was pretty damn entertaining, the times Bass hung out with her, though it was always in the presence of the rest of her family. Of course it's not like he couldn't hang out with Charlie by himself. He could. 

Damn it, he was talking to himself again and sounded like a damn prepubescent teen, sweaty palms and all. The rattling thoughts in his mind mimicked the sound of pebbles clinking against one another with each twist of his foot into the gravel. Sound carried, surrounding the open air around him just like it echoed in his brain. Both had about the same amount of empty space.

Besides the tapping pebbles, the closer he got to the house the more he noticed the absence of noise coming from within. There were no vocal signs of life form present.

Pushing the door aside, he softly closed it behind him, taking notice of Charlie's backpack sitting by the door. He looked around for that golden mess of blonde hair, but nothing flashed across his vision. 

Strolling further inside, he saw a gorgeous web of hair dangling off the couch, slightly moving with every rise and fall of her chest as it scrapped the hodgepodge of colors splattered onto the rug. He couldn't help the small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he drank in the sight of her. 

Usually she was full of life, vitality, energy. She had this spunky glow about her, an always-beaming radiance. Sleeping though, she looked vulnerable, peaceful even. Still looked like a hellion, but a slightly more approachable one. Like a napping lion in its natural habitat. 

He thought for a minute he had disturbed her beauty sleep. Her body twitched, mouth omitting a light groan and legs bending at the knee as her hand drifted up to grasp the pillow. Her breath came out in short erratic puffs until evening back out again as her hand softly caressed the pillow.

If she was anything like Miles, a goddamn tornado couldn't wake this girl. Not even if she was swirling around in the vortex. 

Going back to the door he kicked off his shoes, peeling his jacket off as he hung it on the rack. He still planned to do exactly the same thing as before, regardless of Charlie's literal slumber party of one. 

There was a small space on the couch beside her head, enough for him to wedge his body into, which is exactly what he did. Miles was a minimalist because any more furniture and it would look like he wanted, or anticipated, company and that’s the last kind of vibe he wanted to give off. He wasn’t anti-social; well not really, he just preferred to go to the bar or Bass’ place usually. He didn’t want to be the one stuck cleaning up the inevitable mess.

The large couch was placed smack-dab in the middle of the room, perfectly positioned in front of the TV; hand carved end tables on either side. There were also two identical dark navy leather chairs sitting off to the side. They tried to shove good posture down your throat with their high-upholstered back. Those were mostly for decoration, they sure as hell weren’t too comfortable to sit in, and definitely not the place to fall asleep in. Bass knew that firsthand, he could still feel the crick in his neck, shudder running through his body.

He’d move Charlie’s ass to the floor before sitting back in one of those death contraptions. What? She was already asleep, besides she was young, it wouldn’t kill her to sleep on the floor.

A sigh of relief left his lips when his ass melted into the worn out cushions. The couch welcomed him like an old lover who readily complied with just one touch; he had spent many a nights on this couch. 

It had been a long week and he just wanted to sit on his ass for awhile. Turning on the TV, he held his breath when the loud volume boomed around them, amplifying as it ricocheted off the walls. 

"Shit shit shit," he fumbled with the volume until it was at a normal level. Damn Miles and his fucking bad hearing. You would swear the man was 80 with the way he watched TV and the level of volume needed. Death by drowning in high definition, Dolby surround sound.

The breath stayed anchored in the back of his throat, glancing towards Charlie's consistently expanding chest, no apparent signs of her sleep being interrupted. Exhaling loudly, he returned his attention towards the TV, looking for something to watch until 7 rolled around. He kept to his side for a few minutes but eventually his legs fell open as one arm splayed across the back of the couch.

Burrowing further into the couch, the pillow slipped from its place underneath her head to thump against the ground. That was the last sort of barrier between them. Though his legs were covered in denim, he could feel the soft tickle of her hair brushing against his thigh. 

Her legs jutted out, elongating her body as her shirt rose up, exposing the tanned outline of her stomach.

At the same moment her hand crept closer to his leg before finally settling on his thigh, head nuzzling against his pants as she let out a contented sigh. Her face morphed into one of pleasure, ghost of a smile present as Bass tried to ignore the feel of her palm radiating warmth. 

Who know little Charlotte Matheson was such a cuddler? He quietly laughed to himself, he was never going to let her live this down when she woke up.

All of his concentration and attention shifted back to some stupid infomercials bellowing through the speakers of the TV. But again, his focus was drawn elsewhere. 

The sound of Charlie clenching her thighs, skin slapping and fabric of her shorts scraping together flowed through his ears. She looked like she was trying to spark a fire or create friction. Assuming she was cold, his brows knitted before remembering the blanket behind his back.

He grasped the cloth in between his fingers, dragging it down until he could spread it out, cloaking her body in the plaid pattern. 

Her furrowed brows softened, replaced by a sated, serene look. 

"Mmm, Bass." Her plump lips curled around his name before slipping off her tongue. 

Whipping his head around so fast it was a wonder it didn’t snap right off, he curiously peered at her. Frozen in this position, he assumed he had either heard wrong, or she was awake and yanking his chain. The latter was out as his eyes panned down, seeing her eyelids still squeezed shut, so that meant he had heard her wrong.

Her fingers flexed around his thigh gentle enough to put pressure, but not enough to actually be painful. “Baass. Ooohh…that feels so nice. Fuck. Yesss, right there.”

Instantly he choked, on essentially the air, trying to control the persistent coughs wracking his body. He didn’t know whether to laugh, cough, or be turned on, so his body opted for doing all three. 

The vibrations from his chest caused Charlie to stir, feeling a very real body part below her hand as she sprung up from her prone position. Blanket sliding down, bunching at her hips, a curtain of hair cascaded down one side of her body, blocking the person from view, just the way Charlie wanted it. 

She thought maybe if she sat still enough, whoever was beside of her wouldn’t know she was there. 

Finally, once her curiosity got the best of her, she looked over to where Bass was rigidly sitting. 

On his perfectly chiseled, scruffy face he wore a shocked, but amused, expression. God, she didn’t know what would’ve been worse. Bass or Miles. Miles would’ve incessantly teased her. Bass would’ve incessantly teased her as well, but as far as that being the end of it she didn’t know.

“How long was I out?” Glancing around for her phone, she pushed aside all the embarrassment seething from her body, hoping that if she didn’t appear flustered he wouldn’t notice. Maybe she wasn’t even that loud. Maybe he didn’t hear. Dear god, the least he could do was not comment on it if he did hear her garbled mumblings.

“A few hours I’m assuming, but don’t worry, I was a perfect gentleman. Granted it sounds like you imagined otherwise.” He bit the inside of his cheek, trying to contain his seeping smile and failing miserably.

She couldn’t help the groan that escaped from deep within her chest. “Oh jeez. Let’s just—never mention this again.”

That sounded familiar to Bass, in fact it sounded like the motto of his teenager years.

He nodded, “okay fair enough, but just humor me and answer one question.” He waited until she looked over at him before waggling his eyebrows, “was I any good?” 

“Any good at what?” Coy and subtly were not skills she possessed, but she ripped a page from the “What to do when you’ve fucked up” handbook by Miles Matheson. Lesson number one, actually the only lesson, was to play dumb.

Bass knew the book though; he knew all the rules and all the tricks. He simply raised one eyebrow, “are you asking me to spell it out for you? Maybe I should’ve asked what we were doing first. So, out with it Charlotte, was I doing something particularly saucy?" The amusement lacing his voice conveyed the pleasure derived from taunting her, but a lustful fire brewed behind his eyes. There was a twinge of desire present.

"Well you weren't handing out mints,” she mumbled, fumbling for her phone perched on the coffee table.

His stomach rumbled with fits of laughter as the screen illuminated her face, flashing 3 o’clock on the screen. 

Once he got his laughter under control he sought out her eyes, still waiting for her to answer the second part of his question. It was like pulling teeth. “So…how was I?”

There were a bunch of different ways she could’ve answered, most of those included snarky, sarcastic remarks. Doing a complete 180, she opted for blunt honesty instead. "You were surprisingly adequate," a crimson color etched across her face. Quickly, she repressed the rising heat before looking back up at him.

"Where were we doing it?"

"What?" She was barely able to squeak out as her phone almost fell from her sweaty palms.

He shrugged, "what I'm curious. Where were we having sex?"

She wanted to feel mortified that they were having this conversation, but his nonchalant attitude made it hard. "On the table," she muttered lowly. 

"I'm sorry what?" He cupped his ear, pretend struggling to hear her; he was having too much fun with this. At this point, he made Miles’ teasing look tame. 

At least his would’ve been innocent. There’s no way in hell Miles would’ve wanted to go into specifics. He would’ve made some rude comment, poked fun at her, and then moved on. Bass was savoring in the glory of victory.

"On the table.” She stuck her foot out to indicate she meant the expansive, wooden coffee table before them, elevated so that it was at knee level when sitting.

Bass couldn't help but roar with laughter. "Oh you're a dirty girl.” He didn’t mean for the words to saucily slide from his mouth, but nevertheless they did. “We were having sex in Miles' house? On his coffee table? You do realize your great grandfather made that table with his bare hands right. Took him months and a helluva lot of splinters from the wood,” he snorted not able to contain it. “I don’t think the phrase ‘put a lot of love’ into something should be literally interpreted as love making Charlotte.”

"Ew stop that's…icky. I don't want to think about my great grandfather laboring over a table in Miles' house that we had dream sex on."

A smile spread across Bass' face, dimples poking through. "I'm sorry, did you just say icky?"

"That's what you got out of all of that?"

“What did you get out of it?” His easily slipped a double entendre from his lips, sultrily lacing his words. “Don’t get all hot and bothered about this.”

At this, Charlie went to stand up, tried of his relentless taunting, but his hand on her forearm stopped her, tugging her back down.

“Okay I promise,” he held his hands up in surrender. “No more sex jokes. Although if you want something to actually feel guilty for…I’d be happy to oblige.”

“You said no more jokes,” she groaned until she choked on the sound when he said he wasn’t joking. “What? Did you fall on your head as a child?”

Bass thought for a second, “yeah probably. But that’s beside the point. I’m just saying it isn’t a terrible idea. Usually when you dream about something, it’s because you crave that thing, and apparently that thing is me.” He couldn’t help chuckling, but his laughter got cut short when she shot a glare in his direction. “I’m just saying, maybe one time will be enough to get it out of your system and head.”

“I feel like that’s exactly how my dream started.”

“See, even in the dream universe I’m devilishly handsome and smart as hell.”

“Hmm, more like annoyingly charming and dangerously persuas—“

Once the charming part left her lips, he slanted his move over hers, effectively shutting her up. He wanted to stop with the compliments while he was ahead before it took a drastic turn to more insults. 

His hands cupped her cheeks, thumbs sweeping across the high arch of her cheekbones as his tongue snuck past her closed lips. As soon as his tongue tentatively touched hers, she let out a loud moan, vibrating as it spilled over into his own mouth. She instantly molded into his touch, the same way his body had molded into the couch when he first sat down, with a sense of familiarity, comfort.

Her leg swung over her body to lodge itself until his leg was between the valley of her thighs. Slowly she grinded against his leg, trying to relieve the brewing tension in the pit of her lower stomach. With each forceful blow she grew more confident, hand trailing up the muscles of his abs, dragging his shirt along the way.

Once his top half was free her hand crept down to the button of his jeans, unfastening them before Bass swiftly hooked his hand onto her thigh, bringing her body to sit in his lap. 

She abandoned her mission, latching her hands onto his shoulders as she rolled her hips against his straining cock, probing at the fabric. As soon as her molten core came in contact with his stiff dick, Bass took control, gripping her hips firmly in between his palms all but impaling her down onto him.

Shoving the neckline of her tank top down, he cupped one of her perfectly round breasts in his hands, palming it before suctioning his mouth. His tongue flicked across her blooming bud, springing to life as he watered it with lust. 

Charlie couldn’t help but arc her back, pushing her breasts closer when he moved away. She almost let out a squeak of protest before she realized he was just switching to the other side, giving it the same amount of attention and diligent care as the other.

He got agitated after a few minutes, ripping her shirt from her body as he tossed it across the room. That damn fabric kept sliding back up, depriving him of Charlie’s delicious taste. His mouth made a trail of wet, open mouth kisses down the contours of her stomach, stopping right above the waistband of her shorts, inhaling long, deep breaths.

Charlie’s head lolled back, hair tumbling down in waves as it swung in the air before she snapped her head upright, feeling a sudden jolt.

Bass gathered Charlie in one arm, using the other one to brush across the table, knocking everything to the ground as it soundlessly landed on the carpet below. 

Quickly stripping his pants, Charlie couldn’t help but take a gander at the mountain of his marvelous erection, springing from the confines of his boxers. He was just as impressive right there in front of her versus in her dream.

Apparently he could tell where her train of thought had drifted. “Like what you see?”

Charlie bit her lip, appearing to be indifferent. “I don’t know. I think I need a closer look.”

Bass barked with laughter, “by all means.”

His body covered hers as one of his hands slipped between them to yank her shorts down her legs to a certain point before Charlie could kick them off. 

She could feel the cool air against her glistening center as soon as her knees fell open, allowing a snug space for him to settle in.

Bass groaned out loud when his rigid cock slipped along her satin center, a layer of wetness latching on like water to a dry sponge. Applying more pressure, he grinded down, coasting along her slit, but never entering until she let out a soft whimper. 

Gripping his member in his hand, with more difficulty than usual due to the coating of Charlie surrounding him, he swiftly entered her. A mixture of pleasure and pain etched across her face, eyes clouding in lust as her head connected with the top of the wooden table. He could feel her walls stretching to accommodate his girth, and he waited until she bucked her hips up, coaxing him into complying.

A few squeaks from the table emitted, but it never faltered or wobbled in the slightest. Of course they wouldn’t know if it was the force of their thrusts or the unsteadiness of the table. 

“Fuck Charlie,” he had to control his thrusts when he almost slipped out of her folds. “You’re so fucking drenched.”

“Mmm,” she purred. “Well I did just cum in my dream.”

Bass’ movements skidded for a moment after her brassy declaration. Either he was so goddamn amazing that he was able to give her an orgasm from a dream, or Charlie had such a vivid imagination of how thoroughly he fucked. Regardless, he could feel his balls twitching as he moaned.

Picking up the pace, he switched from short, rapid thrusts to long, deep thrusts, making sure to invade every region of her sopping wet pussy as his hands gripped the edge of the table by her head. At one point he could’ve sworn he heard the wooden buckling under the pressure of his grip so he somewhat relaxed it.

Charlie’s legs loosely clung underneath Bass’ firm ass until he started to dive deeper into her trenches. That’s when her grip tightened, feeling him buried balls deep inside of her. Her toes curled in appreciation of being filled to the brim. All of her senses short-circuited with an overload of bliss.

“Ughh,” a whine left her parted lips, ejecting a few puffs of air as she desperately sucked in more. Searching for his broad shoulders, she yanked on them until his body gave in and collapsed against hers, melting into one as no space was permitted between them. Her arms then wound themselves underneath his armpits, elbows locking behind his back as he incessantly pounded into her pussy.

“Shit…fuck. Bass,” her teeth lightly sank into his shoulder as she felt the spring in her lower stomach beginning to spiral uncontrollably. Her knees caved into his sides, crushing his hips, as she felt the ambush of her orgasm taking her by surprise. The appetizing scent of her secreted arousal filled the air, making Bass’ mouth water as Charlie’s body continued to forcefully expel the liquid.

The only sounds in the room beside their loud grunting was skin slapping against skin, surprisingly an even more erotic sound. His hands latched on to her hips with a bruising force, most likely leaving Bass’ shaped fingerprints along the canvas of her silky skin.

With one last carnal grunt, his fingers tensed at the same time he shot his seed inside of her, mixing together. The last remaining bit of body weight he was holding up crumpled on top of hers, sweat from his skin dripping on to her chest and pooling in the channel between her breasts as it trickled down.

Catching his breath, he rolled his body off of hers, landing with his bare back pressed against the cool surface of the wood as he legs hung off the side.

Eventually, once he could gain the use of his motor skills again, he softly chuckled. “While that little romp was beyond amazing, you do realize nothing can come out of this right? Miles will have my ass.”

“Well, Miles doesn’t have to know.” Charlie’s mouth contorted into a wicked smirk. “We can keep it a secret.”

Bass jokingly rolled his eyes, “oh yeah because that always works out well. We can just sneak around and pretend. Have you not seen that Flintstone’s episode where Fred has to organize two parties at once, but he fucks things up and ends up sending a clown to the Buffaloes and dancing girls to Peebles’ birthday party?”

Charlie looked at him as though he was speaking in a different language.

Bass sighed and progressed anyway, not swayed by her lack of interest. “Well that’s how this would go down. I’d leave something at your house and vice versa, then everything would explode in our faces. And Miles’ wrath is 10 times worse than Wilma’s…but your mother’s is infinitely worse.”

He shuddered involuntarily, which made Charlie break out into a fit of laughter. “You’re scared of my mother.”

Bass vehemently nodded, “hell yeah. She’s a scary lady. If she found out, we wouldn’t have to worry about slipping up and accidentally leaving something behind. She’d cut my dick off and separate it from my body and leave it in another place.”

Charlie mused, “hmm, well maybe she’d at least leave it with me.”

“Your apathy for my appendage is astounding,” he rolled his eyes. “Just for that, I don’t feel bad about lying to you earlier. Your grandfather didn’t really make this table, I just wanted you to feel creeped out even more. Though I’ve got say, you’re way dirtier than I expected,” he sent a wink towards her.

“What?”

Bass snickered, “Miles got this table from IKEA or something.”

“Huh. Well I guess we can leave an outstanding review to speak on behalf of its sturdiness and durability.”


End file.
